Assassins
by Regina Raptorum
Summary: In a kingdom in the middle of an unexpected war, the most feared weapons are the mysterious Assassins. But they aren't what anyone expects... Fantasy adaptation. On hold. Please RR.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Yeah, this is my first Gundam Wing fic. Fantasy adaptation of Gundam Wing, holding very loosely to the plot. (Although, that could easily change...) No, there won't be mechs. Thanks to my beta, Storm. Please R&R. Beyond that, I really have nothing to say. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or associated characters. I wish I did. Besides, I have no money to be sued for.

* * *

Darlien was brooding in the castle garden. It was, in his estimation, the prettiest spot in the garden, and one of the few places where he could think. He heard many things in his position as ambassador to the Sanc kingdom, and some of the recent things he had heard weren't the sort that inspired confidence.

Ever since the completely unexpected death of King Odin Lowe Peacecraft, there had been worrying rumors from home drifting back across the diplomatic channels to reach Darlien. He sincerely hoped that his own king wouldn't decide to do something foolish; the diplomatic relations between Sanc and Century had never been better, and they needed the alliance. He wasn't worried about what Odin's brother would do; the new king of Sanc was a levelheaded man, and dedicated to peace. However, Darlien knew that the same could not be said of the king of Century.

At the moment, he was trying to decide if the rumors that he heard needed to be mentioned to King Peacecraft. On the one hand, Darlien despised gossip, and spreading rumors against his country was perilously close to treason. On the other hand, he was quite fond of the royal family, and if there was going to be trouble, Peacecraft needed to know.

He was distracted from his thinking by laughter. He looked up to see the king's daughter, little Relena, sitting a little ways off with her nanny, a butterfly perched on her nose. She giggled as it sat there for a moment. Then it flew away. She tried unsuccessfully to chase after it, but she wasn't quite a year old, and hadn't mastered walking yet. Darlien smiled as he watched her. He loved children, and would have been very pleased to have some of his own. But his wife's health was failing, and it seemed very unlikely that they would have children.

As he watched the little girl playing under the indulgent watch of her nanny, he came to a decision. He wouldn't tell Peacecraft of his suspicions until he had some evidence. There was no need to worry the king and sour diplomatic relations over rumors.

* * *

Milliardo was sitting up on a low roof of the castle, hiding from his tutor. It was such a pretty day, and they expected a normal, healthy eight year old to sit inside and study? As his father occasionally said, preposterous. (Heh, hearing that word would make Tutor know that he hadn't been wasting time. If he knew a big word like that, then surely he didn't need lessons.) He'd get an earful when he went back inside for dinner at dark, but no one would be too mad. He did wish that his cousin, or even his little sister was older, so he would have someone to play with, and someone to cut lessons with. But it couldn't be too long before they were old enough to play hide and seek, could it? His little brown haired cousin was already able to run (fairly fast too), and 'Lena was getting steadier on her feet every day.

Well, they weren't big enough to play today, and it was nice, lying on the roof watching the clouds. Sanc castle must be the prettiest place in the world. Of course, it wouldn't do for a boy to say that when there were people around. It was okay if girls said it though. Hmm… maybe he could get 'Lena to say that kind of stuff for him? No, she was still a baby, and might tell that he had said it first.

He flipped over onto his stomach and looked out at the scenery. You could see most of the valley from the roof of the castle. He grinned as he looked into the garden. 'Lena was out playing with Nanny, trying to chase butterflies. 'Bassador Darlien was there too, smiling. Generally speaking, Milliardo didn't like court officials; they bored him to tears. But he liked Darlien. Darlien was like a favorite uncle. He always had time to play with them, even the babies. He reminded him a lot of Uncle Odin before he died.

Milliardo frowned as he noticed a large cloud of dust approaching the castle. Riders on the road. He didn't know of any reason why a large group of riders would be coming. It probably had to do with some horribly boring grown up party that he didn't know about. But for some reason, he was suddenly scared. He didn't like this, not at all.

* * *

Darlien frowned as he became aware of the sound of horses on the road to the castle. There were a lot of them, and no good reason for them to be there. There was a bend in the road before it reached the castle, and he couldn't see anything beyond it. The castle gates were wide open; they always were. In fact, they had never been closed in living memory. In three years as ambassador, he had become accustomed to this; he rarely gave it thought. But quite suddenly, he started thinking about the castle from a defensive standpoint. And he knew that there was no way they would be able to defend themselves if this was a threat.

The bulk of the riders apparently waited out of sight around the bend. A single man rode up to the gate. "I have a diplomatic communication for Ambassador Darlien."

He was waved through with out much thought. Darlien had no desire to let the man set foot in the castle, so he called out before the messenger got to the large doors.

"I am the ambassador."

The messenger didn't look happy about being stopped, but walked across the garden to meet him. "His Highness wishes to inform you that your post is no longer needed. He instructs you to return home."

This wasn't right, not at all. "But there is a need to maintain the diplomatic channels between Century and Sanc. If I am to be replaced, may I at least meet my successor?"

"You are not being replaced. You are being removed." He lowered his voice. "The ambassador from Sanc has been executed for treason, and His Highness has declared war. Sanc will become a part of Century, therefore, an ambassador is no longer required. We have instructions to allow you through the lines."

Darlien's blood ran cold. So. The rumors were true. He had to get in, warn the king about this treachery. Maybe it would give them a chance. He started for the door.

The messenger grabbed his arm. "I have instructions that you are not to communicate with King Peacecraft. As of the moment, he does not believe you to be traitorous as well. Do not change His Highness's opinion." The messenger put a hand on his sword in a meaningful way.

Darlien wanted to cut the man's throat. But he wasn't a fighter, and he knew that the messenger would cut him down if he tried. So there was nothing he could do. He looked up at the sky in frustration. "All right." He glanced back at the castle as he started to follow the messenger. A blond head peeking over the roof caught his eye. Prince Milliardo! He knew that the boy had a habit of hiding up there when he wanted to cut lessons. Judging by his frightened expression, he had heard everything. Risking it, Darlien mouthed up at him "Go warn your father."

The blond head nodded at him, showing he understood. Then he glanced over towards the other end of the garden. Darlien understood at once. Relena. Surely if Century was invading, they wouldn't want any of the king's heirs left alive, and the nanny wouldn't stand a chance. Darlien changed course. "Where are you going, sir? The gate is that way."

"Surely I'm permitted to take my daughter and her nurse with me?"

The messenger thought, and didn't look too happy. But if he didn't allow the ambassador to take his family, the king might not be pleased. And if he hadn't supposed to allowed the family, well, then it would be dealt with at home. "Fine. Hurry. And thank whatever god you hold dear that your daughter was out here with you."

Darlien nodded tightly, and went over to the nurse. She smiled at him, but the smile faded when she saw the expression on his face. "Whatever you do, keep quiet," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I've done what I can. There's going to be an army come streaming in here in a few minutes, and I can't stop it. I can't even warn the king. But I can get you and the little one out of here. The man in charge is under the impression that she's my daughter, and I beg of you to play along. We'll bring her back and get it straightened out after." If there's anything left to bring her back to.

The nurse looked frightened, but handled it marvelously. "But what about the king?" she whispered back. "Someone's got to tell him."

"They're not going to let you or me back into that castle alive. But the young prince saw, and he's going to warn him." He looked at her sadly. "This is all I can do. Please."

So she picked up Relena and followed him silently. They walked out of the gate unharmed and unchallenged. And a final glance back at the castle would prove to be the last either of them ever got.

* * *

Milliardo had watched the conversation between the strange messenger and Darlien with horrified fascination. He had very good hearing, and had heard every word. Darlien had done what he could, but he wasn't going to be able to warn anyone. And, with a rush of fear, Milliardo realized that Darlien was going to be taken away, and an army would come here. He didn't know much about affairs of state, but he did know that there wasn't an army here, and very few trained soldiers. Suddenly Darlien caught sight of him, peeking over the edge of the roof. "Go warn your father," he had mouthed up at him. Milliardo understood. He had to warn everybody, had to give them time to get out. A thought occurred to him. 'Lena! She was a baby, and a girl, which sometimes irritated the eight year old boy, but he still loved his little sister dearly. Darlien caught the look, and Milliardo watched, amazed, as the ambassador claimed 'Lena as his own. That would keep her safe for now, and then he would bring her back when the danger was past. It would have to do.

He slipped back inside as Darlien took 'Lena and Nanny out past the gate. He had to find his father, had to warn everyone. Fortunately he knew where his father was, this time of the day.

He ran down the halls of the castle as fast as he could, paying no heed to the servants and nobles he almost careened into. Somewhere along the way, his tutor caught sight of him, and started chasing after him, yelling at him to stop. Milliardo paid him no heed. Finally, he skidded into the library where he knew his father was reading. The king looked up, startled, as his son threw himself at him and started pouring out a rather jumbled account of what had happened.

So. Century was going to invade. He believed his son's story implicitly; Milliardo had an imagination but that was not the shape it took. He had to make sure of one detail before he roused the castle's defenders. "What about Relena? You said that Nanny had her out in the garden."

"'Bassador Darlien took her, he's gonna look after her. He tricked the bad man into think that he was her daddy."

The king felt relieved. He knew that Darlien adored the princess, and would keep her safe. He looked up at Milliardo's tutor who had rushed in during the middle of the story and was standing there stunned. "Take Milliardo and my nephew to safety."

The tutor stammered. "B-But your majesty! I should stay and defend you!"

The king interrupted him. "_Get the children out._" The tutor stammered again, swallowed, nodded once, grabbed the prince, and ran. The king watched them go. Maybe they could hold the invaders off long enough for the children to get to safety. Relena was safe as long as they thought she was the ambassador's daughter. And if the boys could get clear, then they would probably manage to survive this.

The king of Sanc did not cry. But his eyes were strangely bright as he went down the opposite corridor, bellowing for the castle defenders and the few soldiers he had. King Peacecraft was a very sensible man, and he knew that there wasn't much hope they could hold the invaders off indefinitely. Whatever happened this day, he had seen his family for the last time.


	2. Ch 1: Five Gifts

Author's Note: Yeah, next chapter. Set fifteen years after the prologue. There might be some out of characterness. Also, I'm not exactly keeping to the plot of the show, but hopefully more to the spirit of it. Remember, this is a fantasy adaptation of Gundam Wing. Ahh… I think that's it. Please review. Thanks to my beta Storm and my beta-beta Anne-chan.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or any associated characters. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. Besides, I don't have any money to be sued for.

* * *

_Fifteen years later._

King Dermail shifted through a sheaf of reports. "So. Tell me of this gift you speak of."

The other man bowed. "There are five. They have been trained by the greatest fighters and killers, and they have never failed. They obey orders unquestioningly. And any who see them die. They are the perfect for your purpose, and can in no way be tied to you."

"Tell me more."

"There is the Dragon, a master of hand to hand combat. He knows half a thousand ways of killing a man with just his hands. There is the Tactician, a master strategist. No plan of his has ever failed. There is the Actor, the master of deception. He is allowed close to his target, by their own choice. There is the Shinigami, a master of stealth. By the time that anyone realizes he's there, it's far too late."

"And this one? The fifth?"

"The first. The greatest of them all. He is trained in the use of every weapon known to man, and is a master swordsman. He is exceedingly clever, totally loyal, and has no emotions to get in his way. He is the Perfect Assassin."

The king smiled. "I am pleased. I shall put this gift to use at once."

The other man bowed again. "Shall I notify the count and turn them over to his command?"

The king shook his head, a wicked grin on his face. "No. No need to tell my nephew of them. He might think that I don't have faith in his abilities."

"Of course, sire." Both men were well aware of the real reason he didn't want Treize to know. Secret weapons should be kept secret, particularly from one whom they might one day be deployed against.

"You may retain command of them. I shall provide a list of names of people I find… troublesome."

"Thank you, your Highness." Lord Barton turned and left the king's audience chamber. He waited until he was out of the room and out of the hearing of the king's guards before he allowed a triumphant smile onto his face. "You old fool."


	3. Ch 2: Diplomacy

Author's Note: Sorry it's taken me so long to get this updated. I've been busy. Fortunately, I have something of a backlog of chapters, so I should be able to keep up with the story. I also apologize if it's moving rather slow. Can't be helped; there's a lot of set up I want to do. This is going to be a rather long fic; up to eight chapters, including the prologue, and that's just introduction. Thanks to my beta Storm. Anyway. Please R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Gundam Wing characters or story. I'm merely borrowing them for a bit. Anyway, I don't have any money to be sued for.

* * *

The kingdom of Century was widespread, a tribute to the greatness of their army. They had conquered every kingdom that they encountered, and there were many who thought that it would keep expanding. There was no one to stand against them.

Not at first, anyway. But then reports had started coming in from the border regions that a new army was slowly encroaching on Century. It was slowly but surely taking territory for it's own. And so far, there had been nothing that could stop the army's inexorable advance.

As it took more of Century, reports became clearer. It was the army of Romefeller, lead by the king's own nephew, or at least so the rumor claimed. No one in Century was terribly clear as to why Romefeller was invading, but it became apparent that they were not the only victim. They were invading everyone.

Noventa frowned at the reports coming in from the front lines. He wasn't terribly sure who was in command of the Romefeller army (he gave little weight to uncorroborated rumors), but whoever_ was_ leading the armywas certainly a military genius. He wasn't too clear on the losses the enemy was suffering, but it was clearly a smaller number than Century was.

He had a headache. Things really couldn't go on like this. His kingdom was taking staggering losses. _Is this what comes of empire building?_ His predecessor had been a great fool. When Noventa had inherited the throne of Century after the bloodless coup four years ago, he had also inherited a diplomatic nightmare. After the wholesale destruction of Sanc and the general murder of Sanc's royal family fifteen years previously, Century had had no friends. Not that it had stopped the former king from conquering all their surrounding neighbors. All of the countries neighboring Century were afraid they were next, and many people had tried to rebel. Such insurgencies had been ruthlessly dealt with by the former king, and there were mass graves dotting the countryside to prove it.

But Noventa was different in many ways, and had spent his rule trying to rebuild diplomatic relationships and more importantly, much needed trust. At the present time, most people had grudgingly accepted rule under Century law. There were exceptions: gypsies swore allegiance to no one and never had, and there was the remnants of a conquered kingdom in the desert who still refused to acknowledge it.

There was a critical lack of data in the current situation. Some regions fell so easily that it was practically a given that the citizens had rebelled, welcoming the Romefeller army, and Noventa didn't know why. Did they really think Century was so bad?

He needed to open diplomatic channels to Romefeller. That clearly should have been done before, so that at least he wouldn't have been taken by surprise by being invaded. Maybe the current situation could be defused. He was privately of the opinion that Century was too big, and would be quite willing to cede territory to Romefeller. He just wanted a peaceful end to the conflict.

He sighed, and caught the eye of a waiting servant. "Can you please fetch Lord Darlien?" Darlien was the best diplomat in Century, and almost fanatically devoted to peace. It had been because of him that there was progress in rebuilding diplomatic ties. Even if people didn't trust Noventa, or Century itself, they tended to trust Darlien.

He counted himself lucky that Darlien had decided to remain in Century. After the fall of the Sanc kingdom, few would have blamed him if he had fled. But he had stayed, doing what he could to keep the damage under control. What Century would do without Darlien… He was getting older, and some had already suggested gently to him that he should retire. At least he had been grooming his daughter Relena to take his place. Noventa had met her once or twice, and she had her father's way of gently manipulating people. At the age of sixteen, she showed every evidence of being a wonderful diplomat.

Something occurred to Noventa. He knew that while King Dermail had no children, he did have a nephew who was only a few years older than Relena. Noventa's own children were grown and married, and his granddaughter was far too young for him to consider marrying her off. If a political marriage was necessary, Relena would be the logical candidate, nearly the only candidate. He sighed again. He'd have to speak to Darlien about that as well. He didn't look forward to it; Darlien was extremely protective of his daughter.


	4. Ch 3: Heero's Mission

Author's Note: Yay. Fourth chapter in, and I finally start intro'ing the boys. Just so you know, this is going to be a _long_ fic. Even if the chapters are rather short. Anyway. Please R&R. Thanks to my beta Storm.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or associated characters. Anyway, I don't have any money to be sued for.

* * *

Heero looked at the message. It detailed his latest target. Location, habits, security measures. He memorized it, and then burned the message. "Mission Accepted."

The target would be in a fairly well-guarded position. He assumed that was why he had been given the assignment. He knew there were other assassins, but he got the most important or the most difficult. He didn't really care one way or the other.

There was one of two ways to go about this. Either he could sneak in and take care of it quietly, or he could make a lot of noise and make it obvious what was going on. Both alternatives had their benefits. If he was quiet, then obviously no one would know it was an assassination, and he would run a minimal risk. However, if he was noisy, he would make an example of the target and demoralize any soldiers who happened to hear about it.

Sometimes he wished that the masters didn't leave so much up to his judgment. It took him several minutes to decide on his course of action, after carefully analyzing the state of security. The loud approach could be accomplished without an inordinate amount of risk. So that's what he would do.

Of course, the major problem with the blatant approach was that it inevitably created more incidental victims. Any who saw an Assassin at work had to die. But that would also demoralize the enemy. So it was an acceptable trade-off.

Heero started walking towards the enemy encampment. He had work to do.

Several hours later, he made his way back to his campsite. All things considered, that had gone well enough. The target was dead, as well as the witnesses. Granted, Heero had had to kill most of the soldiers there. But it was warfare, and collateral damage was unavoidable. He doubted his superiors would mind. "Mission Accomplished."

Now that the mission was over, he had things to tend to. The gaping sword wound in his left side, for instance. It was his own carelessness that had resulted in it; one of the target's bodyguards hadn't been quite dead when he'd turned his back. He cleaned and bandaged the wound, and took stock of his position.

The wound would slow him down a little and would make using his left arm annoyingly painful, both things to keep in mind. He was a fast healer; it wouldn't take him long to be back to prime condition. Meanwhile, he had stayed here too long, and it was time to move on. Besides, he was a little too close to civilization here. It was getting annoying, eliminating those who found him. Next time, he'd know better.

There was little he valued enough to take with him, and the rest did not take long to destroy. After eliminating his traces, he headed out, making his way to his next assigned region and his next mission.


End file.
